Training Grounds - Guard Sector
The wide lawn of the Training Grounds, stretches north and south and is fenced by tall wooden panels that form a continuous palisade. Certain areas have been laid with sand where pells stand ready for sword-practice. The middle lawn seems to be in use for mounted combat training, while other areas might be used for spear or archery practice. It is normal to find many different militants of the Forces of Himring at practice here at any time.
On the lower western side of the Training Grounds, a road of grey stone proceeds at an angle into the southwest. In that direction, another building stands. The walls of the City conceal the horizon in the south.
Contents:
System Clock shows: Thu Jun 28 16:48:36 2001
Beleriand time is:
Aelindin
His torso is covered in a tunic of worn and tatered red outlined with silver on the hems, all very dirty and stained. The neck of the tunic is in the shape of a V and runs down the length of his chest, almost to the belt, with a dirty white shirt worn underneath. A black leather belt hangs snugly around his waist, and below that are brown leather pants which lace up at the groin area and fit snugly. His boots are weather worn and caked with mud.
As you inspect the face of the edhel, you notice high and pronounced cheek bones, and wavy raven hair which flows down to his shoulders and is unadorned, being pulled back by nothing, yet containing no knot or tangle that you can notice. Deep grey eyes are set underneath the forehead. He has no ornamentation upon his face save a ring of silver which adorns his left ear. He looks as one that is a veteran of many a battle by his garb, and indeed, he has seen many.
Arbuiocar
Now this Noldo is clad in a tunic of some light fabric, a dull silver in shade hemmed and embroidered in black. His boots are simple leather.
~~~
A cold night it is in the citadel of Maedhros. Watchfires burn brightly all about the outer walls as the Noldorin host that abides in the city keeps a vigilant watch on the surrounding lands. A snow now falls upon the roof tops and the ground, coating it in pristine white. All is silent, save for one place.
The training grounds hold one who is not idle for the moment, instead polishing his skills for war against the scourge of the north. He hacks at a straw dummy with a broad bladed sword, keeping his elbow in close to his body. The raven haired Tirno pays little heed to any who might be watching from afar or from nearer.
The light layer of snow crunches softly beneath the feet of the approaching elf as he enters the palisade through the opening to the north. He stops for a moment, pulling a brown cloak tightly about his figure to ward off the cold, and studies the perimiter of the training grounds. Taking note of the practicing tirno, he studies him for a moment before continuing, walking along the edge of the palisade in the general direction of the other.
A glance does the soldier afford before going back to his slow and practised movements, slashing across the midsection with the sword, then bringing it back across the head. He makes sure to keep his shield in proper alignment with his body, and his feet spread apart.
Stopping a few yards from the practicing soldier, the new arrival raises his arm in greeting and addresses the other. "Hail," he says, taking a few steps in his direction. "Forgive my intrusion, if it is such. I am here on business: I seek an officer of the Til. Might thou be such?"
A brow does the swordsman arc, glancing in the citizen's direction with a half-smile followed by a nod. "Well met. I cannot vouch for being an officer of the army, unfortunately... But perhaps you may try to find one in the guard house there." He points in the direction of the proper place, before cocking another brow and looking the newly arrived up and down, as if to inspect him and approve of his worth.
"You wish to join the army of Maedhros, do you?"
"My thanks, good sir," says the other. "Not exactly... I am Arbuiocar of Rerir, of the following of Lord Caranthir. I would prefer, of course, to join the guard of Thargelion, the Til-Ered. But an errand for a kinsman called me away from my home to this place, and ere my work was done here the seige had begun, and I was trapped here. By the time that all was over, I'd learned, much to my sorrow, of Thargelion's desertion and my lord's removal to Amon Ereb 'way southwards." He shakes his head in regret. "So it is that I have come here, so as to join the Til-Anga."
"Rest assured, that can be accomplished." answers the Tirno, now fully observant of the other and his mind away from training for the moment. "We are always in search and in need of good soldiers." A smirk follows as he nods his head in approval. "And I, Arbuiocar of Rerir, am Aelindin Orolinde, Tirno o Til-Faroth o Himring. Always at your service." He bows deeply, then leans on the tip of his sword.
"As am I, and at thy kin's," says Arbuiocar in answer, bowing in return. "My thanks. Now pray tell...
Aelindin Orolinde, Tirno o Til-Faroth o Himring
Obvious exits:
Grey Road
North
Nighttime (About 7PM) on Sunday of Winter - December 20, 463
You see before you a tall and seemingly well built figure shrouded in a cloak and cowl of black, drawn up over his head, and hiding him well amongst the trees as he stands or squats in hiding. You notice a long and iron-tipped spear which is carried at his side, as well as a great broad sword strapped to his back, around three feet in length, a shield to match. Though this mysterious figure's species is unguessable by looks, by its graceful and stealthy movements you would think it was an elf. Further inspection confirms these beliefs when his cowl is withdrawn from his head.
Carrying:
Longspear
Broadsword
Leather Armor
Leather Shield
Studded Leather Helmet
Tall by mannish or Nandorin standards, this elf would likely be considered of average height by Sindarin standards and short by Noldorin. With just-above-shoulder-length dark brown hair and fair skin with a slight reddish tinge to it, he is certainly not one of the Grey-elves who inhabit most of Beleriand, nor one of the Nandor from beyond the Ered Lindon. And to think that he is a dwarf, man, or (especially!) orc would be sheer lunacy. Yes, he is Noldor.